


The Worst Kind of Treatment

by Saffyyy



Category: Gintama
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, I still can't write, Kagura is a housewife, Married Couple, Sick Sougo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 09:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20094922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffyyy/pseuds/Saffyyy
Summary: Sougo fakes sick to take advantage of his wife's soft side, but he realizes her treatment methods aren't all that ideal... or survivable.





	The Worst Kind of Treatment

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Okita Sougo adjusts his position in the futon, feeling too hot with the concealed heating pad underneath him, but also being forced to keep the blanket on since he was still ‘sick’.

Despite lying in a comfortable bed and having nothing better to do, he can’t find it in himself to fall asleep. Not in his current situation anyway. He has to be on guard. 

Sougo cranes his neck to look out the window. He sees an endless blue late-afternoon sky shrouded with clouds, the Sun peeking out from behind the white fluff. A ray of light filters through the glass, filled with warmth and lighting up a patch of tatami mat on the floor. He stares longingly at the world outside, listening to the quotidian noises of Edo that he was missing out on. Cars and buses honked on busy roadways, men and women alike conversed and laughed, school kids shouted in delight as they played together, birds chirped in a peaceful sing-song manner, and the everyday flow of life carried on without a single care, not waiting for anyone or anything as always.

And today, they did not wait for Sougo. But that was his own fault.

If it _ was _ just like any other day, right now he would be patrolling (more like mindlessly wandering) the streets of Edo, trying to annoy as many people as possible before the day ends (huge points if he encounters the Yorozuya), and ignoring orders from Hijikata-san by taking a nap on a park bench during his shift. Later, Sougo would return to the Shinsengumi headquarters to get yelled at by the demonic vice-chief, proceed to make snide comments about his mayonnaise and nicotine addiction, tell him to go die because Hijikata’s very existence pisses Sougo off, then have Kondo-san pull them apart after Sougo tries to break one of Hijikata’s bones. Finally, he would finish off his day by returning home to Kagura, being forced to listen to her ramble about her own uninteresting day while they eat dinner because _ “that’s what good husbands do, yes?” _, maybe piss her off somehow just to get a reaction, start fighting and knock down any interfering furniture or objects in the process, wordlessly clean up the mess they make because they feel ashamed, perhaps start bickering some more afterwards in spite of that, then he would cuddle with her in bed until he is lulled to sleep, her beautiful resting form held close in his arms.

Sougo sighed miserably, remembering that today was _ not _ going to be like any other day. He didn’t mind changes in his usual routine, even if they were drastic, so long as he still had something to look forward to. But right now, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to keep living. Not like he was in any position to complain. He brought this on himself after all, like the sadistic idiot he is.

* * *

When he woke up that morning, it was only a small cold. A slight itchy throat and a light cough, that if left untreated would only intensify, but could easily be stopped in its tracks with some Vitamin C boosts, hot tea and a warm shower. 

Unfortunately, he gets arrogant when he mentions his cold to Kagura at breakfast and he notices the immediate worried expression that strikes her face, despite her poor attempts to hide it behind a mask of indifference, and he supposes her instant worry stems from memories of her mother. She places her hand against his forehead to feel his temperature, brews some tea mixed with honey, and offers to prepare a hot bath, before suggesting he stay home from work if he really wasn’t feeling well. Truthfully, Sougo knew he wasn’t sick enough to take off work. Even if he was, Hijikata would just scold him to “_commit seppuku you idiot!”_, because giving in to a fever was for the weak apparently.

But this rare chance was just too perfect to pass up. The one time Kagura wasn’t tsundere enough to cover up her concern made it the perfect opportunity to take advantage of this sudden vulnerability and break down her wall of pride. At the moment, he was musing at the thought of indulging in the loving side she rarely displayed, then teasing her about it later and laughing when she gets embarrassed. 

So he decides to lie to the world about his sickness to make use of this golden opportunity. Surely it would be worth it right?

After faking a harsh cough and speaking in a hoarse voice, Sougo was successfully able to take the day off. Kondo seemed to easily fall for the half-baked acting, as the gorilla sounded understanding and wished Sougo a quick recovery. Hijikata was unreadable as usual, but his judgement isn’t important. It’s never important. The only thing that mattered was that Sougo could spend the whole day lazing around in bed while his beautiful wife catered to his every whim, which frankly, seemed like something he could only dream about.

But alas, nothing ever went as planned when it came to China girl. 

She presents a large bowl of nabe to him when he’s reading a magazine in bed. Well, she _ claimed _ it was nabe, but it was more like a witch brew she concocted with only half of her already minuscule brain intact. The broth is a nauseating tint of purple, and Sougo studies the beyond strange visible blend of beef, ramen, watermelon, sukonbu, and cake simmered in.

Kagura wasn’t this bad of a cook by any means, which was why he was both surprised and confused by the unappetizing creation she placed before him. The thought process going through her head behind this odd mixture of available ingredients from their kitchen was beyond his imagination, but he thinks it has something to do with _ ‘making the best nabe with the best tasting ingredients’ _, which, if anything, was more annoying than cute. 

Immediately, he feels the urge to vomit at the disgusting site, but that’s when Kagura places the final cherry on top. She takes out a bottle of Tabasco and tops the whole ‘nabe’ off with a sheet of hot sauce. _ “Just the way you like it Sou-kun!”_, oh how bloody thoughtful. 

It wasn’t like he could throw the damn thing out the window or feed it to Sadaharu either. Kagura stays by his side, watching his every move like a hawk, and it doesn’t seem like she was planning on leaving anytime soon. Sure her company is nice, but this time he could really go without it. She offers to spoon feed him after he sits there just staring at the mess for too long, and normally he would have found satisfaction at the act of his tsundere wife feeding him, but he knows better given _ what _he’d have to consume. 

Unsurprisingly, Sougo throws up halfway through the bowl, and she has a fit over the revolting mess of food contents on the previously clean tatami mat, but quickly obtains a cup of water and helps him lie back down on the futon. 

At this point, Sougo feels a headache coming along, and he wants nothing but to rest for a little while in the clean, comfy sheets of the futon. But then she proposes to give him a massage, as his muscles must be weak and aching from the exhaustion that comes with being sick. He contemplates this offer and, believing there was no way a simple massage could go wrong (so long as she kept her strength in check and didn’t feed him any more nabe while doing so), he allows it. Kagura turns him over so he was lying on his stomach, then slips off the sleeves of his yukata.

A smirk forms on his face as he revels in the thought of _ Kagura _giving him a back massage to soothe his not-so-achy muscles. He closes his eyes and lies patiently in the futon for his wife’s warm hands and relaxing motions.

What he doesn’t expect however, are the giant paws of a massive dog pounding and clawing on his backside, creating bruises and scratch marks that Sougo knows will take _ weeks _ to fully heal.

He demands to know what the hell her dog is doing in between his agonizing cries, to which she brightly explains that putting pressure on his muscles would alleviate the pain and aching, and Sougo can't decide which is worse; his wife's stupidity or the torture she's putting him through.

In the midst of his grunts and screams of pain, Sougo glances up at his wife to find an innocent smile plastered onto her doll face, which pisses him off because she’s too dense to realize that he’s _ suffering _ under the impact of her stupid dog. This isn’t a massage, this is domestic violence _ bastard! _

Sure, this kind of thing _ may _have been classified as a massage… to someone made of metal, and Sougo was only human for crying out loud! 

Now he actually did have an aching back, _ dammit. _

After Sougo shouts for Sadaharu to stop, the inugami finally ceases his rampage and leaves the broken man alone. Kagura kneels next to her husband, still smiling as if her dog hadn’t almost just left a corpse for her to bury.

She sees his dead expression and that tells her he’s annoyed and pissed off, and Sougo recalls how she’s always been great at reading him. She starts talking to him about nonsense that he could care less about, as if he was in the mood to be talking. He groans into his pillow, which she clearly disapproves of because she lets out a loud _ “hmph” _, then starts rambling and complaining about ungrateful husbands who don’t appreciate their wives taking care of them. Sougo just glares at her while she does this because he doesn’t feel like fighting back with this newly formed headache and aching back, and now his throat is starting to really itch, but he doesn’t want to ask Kagura to make him tea because 1) she’s having a moment right now and 2) he doesn’t trust her to make actual tea instead of another mess like the ‘nabe’.

She makes a comment about her mami once saying that idiots don’t get sick, but somehow he managed to get sick despite being an idiot, and he listens while sliding on the sleeves of his yukata. 

God, he wouldn’t mind if he died right now, so long as the pissy, annoying pig that he called his wife would go down with him. This way, he wasn’t the only one who would suffer in the end, and Kagura wouldn’t be able to get away with her innocent crimes.

After she complains for long enough, he decides that he doesn’t want to hear anymore so he tells her he’ll feed her pig ass to the wolves if she doesn’t shut up, which only causes her to nag even more. He gets up from the futon and announces he’s taking a hot bath. She grabs his wrist before he can leave and offers to prepare the bath for him.

He really considers this offer. _ Really. _So far, she’s given him food poisoning, then almost turned his body into a liquid mess of flesh and bones, and now he’s pleasuring himself in thoughts of being dead. While preparing a bath normally seemed harmless, Kagura was just too unpredictable for him to take the risk.

Sougo looks back at her to decline the offer, but then she gives him that face.

That _ damn _face.

She’s pouting and staring at him intently, sincere eyes and quivering lip making his heart race, flushed cheeks and sparkling pupils that make him rethink his decision, his choices in life, his existence, but most of all he thinks about how much he loves her.

Thankfully, Sougo’s trance is broken when Sadaharu lets out a loud yawn, and they are both snapped back to the reality of the situation. He flicks her forehead so she can let go of his wrist, then heads for the bathroom, the sound of curses and _ “hmph!” _s following his form down the hallway. 

When he finishes his bath, Sougo returns to his room and slips in the vomit no one cleaned up, colliding into the giant dog that barely moved an inch from his earlier spot, screams when the dog tries to murder him again, his pained cries causing Kagura to come back in and yell at him once more.

* * *

It is evening already and Sougo reflects on the events that took place today. He laments on the wasted time that he could’ve spent napping outdoors, annoying people, killing Hijikata, ‘patrolling’, killing Hijikata some more, just doing _ anything _ better, all because he lied to take advantage of his wife’s soft side. Even if he has to see Hijikata’s ugly face, listen to his stupid voice, or actually do his job, then so be it. At least he wouldn’t be unintentionally tortured by the wife who innocently thought she was just taking care of her husband. 

Her shrill voice from down the hall breaks him out of his longing stupor, making it clear to the entire house that she is doing the laundry, and that his Shinsengumi uniform is smelly and _ drenched _ (perhaps from the intense rain he hadn’t bothered taking shelter from a few days ago, but she didn’t need to know about that). She shouts something about how he is an idiot and _ “no wonder you got sick stupid sadist, you never washed your ugly clothes!” _ , unbeknownst to her that his entire sickness is a farce, that he’s been lying to her this whole time so she would cater to him, and that he regrets it all because she is _ terrible _at taking care of people, so he simply makes a comment about her insufferable sukonbu odour and how much it sickens him. 

She doesn’t say anything back.

At least she is occupied. That’s a relief. She won’t barge into the room and do something stupid now, so he could safely take a nap. Maybe. Probably.

_ Not. _

His eyes are closed but he can hear her slide open the shoji doors and he holds back a tired groan because she’ll just go off about that. He hopes the sight of his closed eyes is enough for her to believe that he’s sleeping and does not want to be disturbed. 

Even if it fooled her, it doesn’t sound like she cares.

Because she starts repeatedly nudging him with her foot, drawling “Sou-kuuunnnnn” over and over to get his attention. He twitches in irritation but opens an eyelid because she’s so damn annoying.

But the sight before him causes both eyes to widen.

Kagura is standing in front of him, hands on her hips, a wide grin on her face as she stares down at him condescendingly. She’s not in her cheongsam anymore though. 

When did she get a Shinsengumi uniform?

Sougo wants to laugh because the jacket sleeves are too long and are slipping off her small shoulders, concealing her hands inside the fabric, the cravat is clumsily tied, the vest is too loose, and the trousers are baggy and pile at her feet. She even has his scabbard resting at the hip, claiming she is now a dog of the law and she demands he give her tax money.

He doesn’t know why but the sight of Kagura in his clothes makes him feel warm all over, and a tingling sensation travels from his chest to the rest of his body. Surprisingly, he’s not irritated by the sight at all.

For one reason or another, he wants her in his arms. Right. Now. _ Dammit. _

Suddenly, he feels his headache clear a little, his aching muscles are not so achy, his sore throat is forgotten, all the pain she caused today abruptly forgiven and of little importance now, because all he wants is to hug her and indulge in not her vulnerable side, but just _ her_.

He says _ ‘China’ _in such a low voice, she has to bend down because she can’t quite hear him. He grabs her by the wrist and tugs her down, causing her to grunt as her head lands lightly on his chest. He detaches his sword from her hip, gathers her in his arms, then rolls them both onto their sides, burying his nose into her wild vermilion hair and breathing in the scent of strawberry shampoo, sukonbu and a foul-smelling uniform. She is obviously taken aback because she hesitates before placing a hand in his hair, ruffling and playing with his light brown strands. 

Not a second passes before she asks him what the hell he’s doing. He tells her he’s taking his medicine. She doesn’t bother asking whatever that meant, because she’s yelling at him for being so close to her and how she’ll probably extract the same ugly sickness he has, and it’ll be his fault, so he has to take her to a hospital, then buy her dango after that to make it up to her, and why is the futon so damn warm, and she keeps rambling like this until he covers her mouth with his hand to shut her up.

Sougo tilts his head up and smirks at her, his piercing red eyes meeting her confused blue ones. He reassures her by quoting her earlier words, how morons don’t get sick so she has nothing to worry about. She attempts to kick him but he blocks it, and wraps his leg around hers. He tells her that she won’t get sick because he had gotten better a long time ago. She yanks his hand off and asks him when exactly he did, but he doesn’t respond, instead burying his face back into her hair.

As Kagura silently plays with the collar of his open yukata, Sougo indulges in her soft touch, her scent, her small hands, her clothes, her hair, her warmth, her shyness in intimate situations, her existence altogether, and he realizes that those qualities are the best at healing him.

Unfortunately, the medication stops working when Kagura lets out a sneeze and coughs lightly and Sougo thinks that from now on, they should probably seek a professional whenever they get sick.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. I was hoping to publish more works during the summer, but I was unfortunately caught up in a series of abrupt trips and outings, so I didn't get that much time to work on anything.  
Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed this one-shot and I hope to maybe get something else out sooner than later.


End file.
